Strings of Fate
by Starlit Anabelle
Summary: Pull one string of fate, and everything changes. If L was found someone other than the famous inventor, Quillish Whammy, how would things be different? When the strings are pulled, everything shifts and chaos ensues... An AU Death Note/Naruto crossover.
1. Adoption?

_Okay...I just know that I'm gonna get shot for this crossover...or something...so I'll be sure to duck and cover. It's Death Note/Naruto. But I kinda couldn't resist the idea; it's been spinning around in my head for a while. It's somewhat based off of a sort of crackish roleplay that my friend Puppet-chan and I started doing, but it's really only loosely based. Death Note timeline, this starts off when L is only six years old-about eighteen years before the Kira case begins. Naruto timeline, this is about ten years before Shippuden, soon after the Akatsuki has formed. I'm estimating Sasori to be about...twenty-eight or so._

_So, now that I've hopefully given myself enough time to hide before things start being shot or thrown at me, let the madness begin._

* * *

He wasn't sure what had possessed him to do what he did that night.

A walk through an unfamiliar city almost halfway across the world…capturing the jinchuriki had been simple enough, despite how cleverly hidden it had been. But now it had been captured and delivered, and he and his partner were about to regroup and head home.

But that's when he had stumbled across…_it_.

The thin little figure had clearly collapsed in the doorway, only managing to pull itself into a ball. Arms tightly hugged the knees as the little one shivered. There was an overhang, and even still, the covering clothing was soaked through with rain and blood. What flesh that could be seen in the street lamp was greatly pale, and the clothing consisted of ragged, torn jeans and an old, overgrown white sweatshirt. There were no socks, no shoes. Ebony hair was a complete mess.

He picked up the dripping mass with only the most feeble of resistance in response, assuring himself that this finding would only serve in becoming his next project and nothing more.

Five minutes later, the famous inventor Quillish Whammy arrived at the scene, greeted only by an empty doorway and thoughts of what could've been.

...

The reactions he received upon arriving home and regrouping were just about everything he had expected them to be. They ranged from shock to amusement to outrage amongst the members of the criminal organization as a small but almost bony hand clutched the back of his cloak all the while.

"Sasori, have you gone _mad_?!" Kakuzu spluttered. "That is a boy! A _human boy_, not a puppy!" He paused. "And even if it was merely a pup, that would be far too costly."

"Clearly," Hidan said, seeming actually almost amused with the situation overall. "Sasori has been surrounding himself with puppets for far too long. He's beginning to mistaken _actual_ children for _puppet_ children."

"Well, surrounding oneself with puppets all day and the most frequent company being Orochimaru, who could blame Sasori for seeking out a subordinate?" Zetsu reasoned. Then in a darker voice, "_They _do _make good snacks, after all._"

"Speaking of subordinates," Konan spoke up. "What about your current project, Tobi?"

Orochimaru had been shooting Zetsu a dirty look, but upon hearing this question, he turned his attention to the blue-haired woman. "We've been making good progress on him so far," he replied. "He should be up and about within a couple weeks or so."

"Getting off topic…" Kakuzu spoke up irritably.

The puppet-master could feel the grip on his cloak tighten a little, the scrawny figure behind him shrinking further back into hiding…or as much as he could hide behind the Hiruko puppet body that Sasori was currently using.

Kisame, one of the amused, chuckled. "Does he even have a name yet?"

That question had caught everybody's curiosity, opposed to the presence of the ebony-haired boy or not. Sasori noticed this, as the room had fallen silent in expectance for an answer, all eyes on him.

He absently reached over, a hand finding the wild tangles of jet-black hair and resting there. To comfort the boy? To reassure him? He couldn't really know.

Finally he responded, "…He hasn't given an actual name yet." Upon noticing the looks of disappointed curiosity and exasperation, he then went on to add, "But he does seem to respond to a single English letter: _L_."

* * *

_Okay! So...while I'm still peeking around to check if the coast is clear, please review. Flames...especially flames that don't even really give any constructive criticism...those are gonna be used to make s'mores with. Then they'll be painted red and fed to an apple-deprived Ryuk. But anywho! Um...sorry for the short chapter, but tend to be common for first chapters anyway. I shall try to make the next ones longer._

_Anyways, ja ne!_


	2. Observation

_Gah...later than planned. Oh well._

_Jadedone-Thanks! Um...well, I kinda was afraid I'd get shot for this because...well, to begin with, it's my first Death Note fanfic and the idea isn't very plausible (plus it's a crossover.) And two...I guess because I noticed a bit of tension between Death Note and Naruto fans on deviantart? I dunno... Anyway, heh...this really did come from a crackish roleplay, but I guess this _is _very loosely based... I did actually do quite a bit of research before posting this up, plus I got some help from Puppet-chan (she's an awesome Sasori roleplayer.) And I agree; _I _would certainly want to keep a scruffily adorable little L stray._ _In answer to your questions, well...the meshing of these two worlds are going to start affecting a lot of people (the very fact that Watari didn't find L sets off a chain of major alterations). So for now, there's going to be a few chapters that are mostly set in shinobi country, but I will begin swinging over to England and all that to start showing how everyone else is affected, too. It might seem somewhat like a bunch of oneshots at first, but if all goes well, a plot will begin to be spun in all of this, too. I shall try not to fail you in posting regularly!  
_

_Otherrealmwriter-Really? Thanks. Heh, to be honest, I was a little iffy on the idea (though you could probably tell that from the author's note.)_

_Kikino-I'm glad you like it! I know what you mean...and it was probably one of the other reasons I was a bit hesitant on posting this fic. Normally when crossovers like this pop up, it tends to either be a hit or a miss, so one has to be a bit careful when writing it. And agreed-chibi L is quite adorable! As for your question, it's not going to stick completely in L's childhood. There's going to be some time skips every now and then, and if plot development goes well, I plan to bring Mello, Matt, Near, and BB into all of this, too._

_Gah, one more thing. I noticed I forgot the disclaimer's in the last chapter... I don't own Naruto or Death Note! Please don't send your lawyers; I've already spent all my money on college and gum and I need any I receive for new glasses (as my current pair almost literally snapped in half for no reason last night.)  
_

* * *

Night four in a strange new place.

Nights one, two, and three had been spent on the journey home.

The first night, L had positively passed out from stress, blood loss and shock after his feeble and honestly pathetic little struggle against his…kidnapper? Caretaker? How could one refer to a random person that just picked him up off the street without giving any reason (or reason to believe that there even _was_ any reason) for doing so? This certainly couldn't be an adoption, not legally…nor was it probably intended to be seen as such.

And anyway, L wasn't about to go calling this…this _stranger_ anything close to 'father' or 'Tousan' or 'Otousan' any time soon. One, because this stranger was just that: a stranger. And secondly, the young boy wasn't about to condemn this man, as strange as he was, just like that.

Due to lifetime experience, the title of 'father' or anything relating to it in other languages was a distasteful, unfavorable title to him. The term of the word had become skewed.

But these thoughts only ran vaguely through the young boy's head. All of it was just so much for him to absorb. He was known to be observant, intelligent-far more than one would expect from a six year-old child. But this drastic, sudden change…managing to escape from home, managing to even be _alive,_ and all by the hands of a stranger…it had all sent even his mind spinning, reeling in confusion. Everything seemed to rush by him in a blur. He was caught off guard, and he hadn't felt this sort of shock, the feeling that everything just couldn't possibly be real since he had received news of his mother's death two years ago.

Definite brain overload.

In all honesty, he didn't even have any sort of clue where he was going. He didn't know who these people were or what they were taking him to. He heard the word 'shinobi' mentioned…

Shinobi… Weren't those fiction…?

Whatever he was heading into…as strange as it seemed, he couldn't say that he really _cared_. All he was certain of was that he was leaving home now…away from his father. And at the moment, while he was vaguely even conscious, he had decided that wherever he was going, whatever he was heading into…just about _anything_ would seem better than the life he had been living.

Anywhere would be better than home.

So he didn't struggle anymore. He conceded to whatever was to happen to him, unable to do much more than place his life into the hands of fate and the one that had taken him. What other choice did he have? He was too weak to rebel against any of this…for now, at least.

Besides, this man…he couldn't be _too_ bad, right? After all, the man had taken the time to bandage up L's injuries…

Unable to sort out all of his thoughts, unable to come up with any sort of question to ask first, he remained silent throughout the journey. He would respond when requested, yes. Thankfully he could understand them; his mother had been Japanese, so he had managed to learn most of the native language at an earlier age. But…he didn't say anything. Not in English…not in Japanese. Again, as what had happened when his mother had died…it was as if some part of him had shut down. He was literally speechless.

On the second day, he was conscious enough to provide a name. But his name…it wasn't his _real_ name. Not that he had much of a reason to hide his real name. But maybe if this was a fresh start… He didn't want to be called by his real name anymore. He didn't want to use the name that his mother and father used for him.

And so, he chose a new name.

It was very simplistic, merely a part of his original name.

The name he had given to the man and his partner (through writing, anyway) was L.

In turn, he learned the names of his abductors. The one that had carried him off was Akasuna no Sasori. His partner was Orochimaru. L made sure to store these and any other facts that he could glean throughout the second and third day into his memory. With hope, luck, and a lot of effort, perhaps he could somehow manage to figure everything out…once he had enough pieces of the puzzle.

When they had finally arrived at the base of the organization they had spoken of, there was a meeting. Sasori had announced that he wanted to actually _keep_ L…at least until he was better. That was where the conflict started.

L had been through a lot in his six years of life. He had seen many things, learned many things…but never had he seen anything as unusual as the members of this organization, the Akatsuki. It was even enough to actually intimidate him. With Sasori being the only one he had decided more or less safe by far, he had determined by at least eighty-seven percent that the safest place in the room would probably be right behind him.

Hidan appeared to be fairly normal, but extremely foul-mouthed and bad tempered. This was made very clear when he began arguing with some of the other members about some thing or another. L made a mental note of this, deciding that going near this person would be a very bad idea.

Kakuzu seemed…normal. More or less. L's wide ebony eyes _did_ detect quite a number of stitches on the man's arms, so he could only imagine what sort of possible disfigurements could be hidden beneath the excessive clothing. As he listened to the man ramble on about money and what kind of financial ruin a child's coming could bring to the organization, he made a small note that this man was greedy and bad-tempered. Again, probably a good idea to stay away from this person.

Konan seemed normal, though even his six year-old mind could never be convinced that the blue hair was natural. L detected some sort of closeness to the leader, different from everyone else…but since he had only witnessed all of this for the first time for a very short period of time, he couldn't draw any sure conclusions.

He had already met Orochimaru. Though the man didn't _seem_ so bad…even Sasori didn't seem to trust him half the time, even if they were partners. He seemed to have the charm of a snake: charismatic, yet eerie. Ominous and creepy. L had decided that he wasn't about to trust the serpentine shinobi anytime soon.

Kisame and Zetsu were two of the strangest, yet…probably much better than Hidan and Kakuzu. Kisame seemed to be a humanoid shark with a giant sword, while Zetsu was a half black, half white, human Venus flytrap. Kisame seemed to be more amused than anything, and Zetsu seemed understanding…almost. He must've been a schizophrenic or something, considering how he would say something reasonable, and then say something…creepy to counter it.

The snack comment, for instance.

And then the leader…he didn't really get a good look at the leader, to be honest. The man stayed mostly in shadow… But he did catch glints of metal on the man's face, which gave L the impression that the man had many piercings.

He listened as the conversation continued. When the leader had given the okay for him to stay, they then moved on to other topics. Something about a…jinchuriki. He knew a good deal of Japanese, but couldn't seem to recognize the term. Not long after the meeting began, it dispersed-most likely because Hidan and Kakuzu's arguing was beginning to escalate into something violent. This seemed somewhat common, but Sasori led L off before anything too serious could happen.

Night four and he had yet to say a word, but Sasori had made sure to lay down some ground rules all the same. His mind was spinning with even more thoughts as he lay curled up on a spare futon in Sasori's room, the blanket tangled around him. He couldn't sleep…but then, he could never sleep. Not much, anyway. The dark bags underneath his uncovered eye proved it. So in the darkness, his ebony eye darted around to look at the humanoid shadows of puppets and puppet pieces, as well as various tools and weapons strewn here and there. The only thing he didn't really see, oddly enough, were strings to animate the puppets with…aside from the strings that would be used to help hang puppets from the ceiling or wall while they were works in progress, anyway.

He got his last surprise of the day when Sasori walked into the room, probably thinking that he was already asleep. The dark, hunched figure of the man stopped next to the bed on the other side of the small room for a moment before a clicking noise could suddenly be heard. It sounded like clasps or locks suddenly coming undone. The back seemed to shift somewhat, and from L's position, he couldn't really tell what was going on at first.

But then, as if emerging from a cocoon, a cloaked man arose from the former body. The former body…it had been a puppet all this time. L watched as the man pulled a cover from his head, a mask of some sort, and noted short hair. It was then that he realized…considering the heat and lack of oxygen in a cloak and mask, as well as a puppet body, how could one still possibly manage function properly?

He had seen just about everything at this point.

In fact, if this man's true body was really another puppet body…he wouldn't be too surprised.

...

Leader-sama had said yes.

On the conditions, of course, that L was supported on Sasori's salary, and not the funds of the organization itself. After all, this was a criminal organization, not an orphanage. It had been enough to keep Kakuzu content, at least for now. Also, it was to be made clear that L was not interfere with business, and that he be educated in certain matters so as not to cause trouble for the Akatsuki. Matters such as _secrecy_, for instance.

L had listened to these conditions with rapt attention, knees drawn in to his chest in that odd posture he sat in, nibbling on his thumbnail as the dark, wide eye that wasn't bandaged watched him. When Sasori had finished explaining all that needed to be explained, L merely gave a silent nod of understanding.

Of course, even these instructions didn't keep the dark-haired boy from tailing after the puppet master wherever he went. Even before he had completely recovered, he had stuck to Sasori like a second shadow. The redhead supposed that he really couldn't blame the boy, considering the rather hostile environment. More so, considering that the newest target for most of that hostility was the child himself.

While the sudden increase of human company had been unusual, even uncomfortable for the scorpion at first, he soon began to grow used to the child's presence, or at least had grown to scarcely notice it. He didn't really bother to use Hiruko when he was alone (or around L now, apparently); it was his favorite puppet to wear, yes, but it was bulkier than what was practical for when he was merely working on his puppets. And after the first night that L spent here, he could tell that there was really no point in hiding his true form. After returning all the way from Europe, some work needed to be done on Hiruko. The boy obviously didn't sleep much, and had caught a glimpse that night while it was being worked on.

L had yet to speak a word, but he had already displayed a great fascination in books. Every morning Sasori would begin to set up the tools of his workshop, and all the while L would make several trips in and out, carrying in books two or three at a time and stacking them up into a rather high tower, one higher than even himself. Most of the day would be passed in almost complete silence; Sasori would work on his puppets as he usually did while L would be curled up towards the back of the room, absorbed in his reading and occasionally stealing fascinated, curious glances at the redhead's work. By the time night fell, the entire stack of books would be completely diminished. Whether the information from them was actually read and retained or not, Sasori couldn't tell-the boy seemed to be barely the age of six, after all. Then again…since when did age matter? But he could certainly identify the look in the dark, sleep-deprived eye of the boy from seeing it in his own: a yearning for knowledge, one that would never be completely fulfilled. One thing was at least made certain to him…

…He would really have to begin buying more books.

* * *

_Author's Note-On the whole name thing...yeah, I know L's name really is L Lawliet, but L seems like it's just an initial (then again, I guess if you can have random names like Beyond Birthday and Mail Jeevas...) So the L once stood for...something. But now it's his official name. Anywho, please review! And...evil flames will be used melt pens and keep them out of Light's reach._


	3. Sweets

_Later than planned again...but then, I haven't been feeling too well recently. Ah well. While I'm still feeling a bit better, here's the next chapter._

_Kikino-I'm glad you're glad I updated. Heh... Really? Well, I hope this chapter turned out to be a bit more interesting. For now, these are a bit oneshot-ish, but there will be more storyline solidification coming up in the next few chapters._

_Shinta-Light/Raito will probably be making an appearance, though a bit later on. As for yaoi...I'm not entirely sure yet. There probably will be hints of shonen-ai in the Saso/Dei pairing and the Matt/Mello pairing, since I'm real big on those two. L/Light...I'm currently a bit neutral on that. So we'll see._

_As for my disclaimer! I do not own Death Note or Naruto. Do not send your lawyers after me; I'm just a humble fanfic writer that has no money._

* * *

Caring for a child was much more difficult than Sasori had anticipated it to be.

Yes, he had expected there to be challenges…it would be foolish not to. But living in the state he was in now…he had nearly forgotten what it was like to be human, much less how to actually care for one.

For instance, he had forgotten just how much a human child could consume.

He couldn't figure it out-the boy was a twig already. There was no doubt that L was almost severely underweight, and losing more and more as the days passed. And yet, the dark-eyed boy would eat just about anything given to him, and certainly not pick at his food. The first time he had actually gotten a full-fledged meal though, he seemed a bit surprised, his visible eye wider than usual. He had responded with a confused but happy smile in thanks, and had consumed it in almost record time.

And so now, despite the dent it made in his work budget, he was providing regular meals for the young one, which would be consumed with hardly any poking or prodding or question. The boy did have rather unusual eating habits-eating with his hands when chopsticks probably would've been better, or even when he did use chopsticks, holding them delicately with one in each hand, in the most unusual way he'd ever seen. L would play with his food, too, making little towers and the like-not out of pickiness, but out of amusement. After all, he would still eat his food in the end.

And yet…

"That boy of yours is wasting away, Sasori…" a serpentine voice came from the doorway.

Sasori frowned, then looked down at the boy rather than his partner. L was still curled up as he usually was, reading through the book that was currently in hand, but now he seemed a little…tense. He always seemed to tense a little more whenever Orochimaru was around. The redhead figured that this was probably understandable, though-the serpentine Sannin _did_ tend to give off an eerie air. He scarcely noticed anymore, having grown more or less used to it, but the child…

"Yes, I've noticed," he replied. "But I am providing him with regular meals, and he does eat all of what I give him."

"Perhaps that's the problem," Orochimaru replied. "This boy must have quite the metabolism…" He took a step towards the little bookworm. The boy tensed further, and Sasori could feel the stinger in his stomach give a small, subconscious quiver. But…surely he hadn't grown attached to this child enough to feel protective of him, had he? Of course not…he _was_ Akasuna no Sasori, after all. He didn't _need_ anyone, nor did he need to feel _protective_ over a human being, especially one that was so small and insignificant.

Annoyance was the only explanation, which, with his short temper and Orochimaru's pestering and creepy attitude, wasn't too unlikely right now.

All the same, the paste-white Sannin _had_ noticed Sasori tense when he drew close to the child. Was this…L boy beginning to form a soft spot in the scorpion's heart? A weakness? It almost made him chuckle. Of all the things or people…

"You can relax, Sasori," he said with an amused expression, taking a few more steps towards the boy and kneeling down next to him. "I have no intention of harming your little…" He searched for a word, then finished, "Pet." He held one hand out to the boy and opened it, revealing botan, rice candy.

L stared at the candy for a moment, then looked up at Orochimaru and pointed to himself, as if to ask _"For me?"_ When the smiling man nodded, he took the small pieces of candy, observing and studying them for any sort of tampering.

Sasori was watching warily as the scene unfolded before him. "L," he spoke up. The little insomniac stopped in mid-observation and looked over at the redhead, wondering if he had done something wrong.

Orochimaru rose to his feet, giving Sasori a grin. "It's _just_ candy," he said. "I said that you could relax; the candy isn't poisoned or anything. I won't interfere with your projects." He then added, "However, I _will_ provide you with some advice-what you choose to do with it is up to you." He turned his gaze on L. "Clearly, regular meals will not help this boy in getting any healthier. Rather, I recommend switching his diet to sweets and fruit, as well as vitamins so he'll have a somewhat decent and nutritious diet, at least."

The puppet master's eyes continued to watch him suspiciously. Why would he be interested in L's well being? It wasn't advice given merely out of the kindness of his heart-his partner wasn't that simple. He was half tempted to spear the Sannin…out of annoyance for interrupting his work with matters so petty, of course. But as his mind was still in debate, he silently watched and settled on allowing the man to leave without much event…for now.

But once the snake was gone, he did turn to L and plucked the candy from the boy's small hands. "Let's get you something sweet…" he said, tossing the candy into the trash. "And _safe_."

The wide eye of the boy blinked, but then his expression turned into a smile and he nodded, setting down his book and climbing to his feet to follow the scorpion to market.

...

L had been staying with Sasori for about a week and half, and day in, day out, the daily ritual of artwork and reading had gone by without much event. The only thing that had really changed was L's diet (which, as much as Sasori hated to admit, had helped in making the child healthier) and that some of the bandages had been removed; both eyes could now be seen, both wide and watching him. He still bore a few scars, yes…as to be expected with injuries like the ones he had found the boy with. Those would probably be with him all his life.

The boy still couldn't stand or walk straight up, but remained hunched over, leaning forward, sometimes balancing precariously on the balls of his bare feet. There must have been severe damage done to his spine in the past…and Sasori might could have repaired it, but chose not to. He was willing to bandage the child, but not to go so far as to put the time and effort into a full-fledge spinal repair. Besides, for all he knew, it was possible that L didn't know how to stand or walk or balance any other way.

No longer did L wear the tattered, bloody clothing that he had been found in, but the clothing that had been given to him wasn't brand new, either. Rather, Sasori had given him one of the spare robes that he would use for his puppets. In exchange for this amount of kindness that surprised both himself and L, the boy would give him a faint, grateful smile and wouldn't really bother him for the rest of the day. L wouldn't wander far or cause trouble for any of the other members…Zetsu had even gone so far as to say that L was a good boy.

And then the routine had been broken with a sudden surprise.

That day…L _spoke_.

Apparently the boy's curiosity had been peaked. He had been stealing more and more interested glances at Sasori's work lately, and finally he lowered the book and climbed to his feet, walking over to stand next to him. His nose barely reached the surface of the table, so he couldn't get a very good view from where he stood. After a moment, he rose up onto his tiptoes, fingertips grasping the edge of the tabletop to aid in balance.

"Sasori-san…?" he spoke up. "What have you been working on?"

At first, the puppet master thought he had imagined the question. But then he looked down at the ebony-haired boy, who was peering at his work with wide, curious eyes. For a moment, he wasn't entirely sure how to respond to this new development. Now that L was speaking, he could probably answer a few questions. What official caretaker should he shuttle this boy off to, for instance.

Then again…considering how he had found L…

So he settled on calmly answering L's question, as if the event of his speaking was commonplace. "Shinobi puppetry," he merely replied.

"Puppetry…" L repeated in a thoughtful murmur. One hand left the table so he could nibble on his thumbnail, as he often seemed to do when in thought or solving some sort of problem.

The eyes of the man flickered downwards to look at the child, and for a moment, he was reminded of when his grandmother had first introduced the art to him.

Perhaps this boy was interested in learning the same trade…?

Almost immediately he opposed the idea and wondered what foolish notion, what softness on his part, had even made him hesitate for a split second to even _consider_ such an idea. It was enough that he was keeping the child here and caring for him, and he didn't even have any intention on letting the boy stay long; he certainly wasn't about to take on the role of teacher, too. He had enough to occupy himself with already. The last thing he needed was to attempt teaching puppetry to a boy who probably didn't even know the first thing about…well, the very basics of shinobi education. The boy had probably never even heard of chakra. And even if he was willing to put forth the time and effort, was it really worth running the risk of ever being possibly betrayed by his own art? In his experience, students and successors tended to have a rather nasty habit of backstabbing their teachers-especially if the said students and successors turned out to be geniuses.

…No. He would let the boy poke and prod at some of his tools and puppet parts, maybe. But it was then when he firmly decided that he wasn't about to attempt teaching this child any time soon.

...

Among Sasori's projects, there was one in particular that kept him busy, especially in past couple months or so. It was the only project that was a joint effort between himself and his partner, and they had been working on it since his acceptance into the Akatsuki.

When Zetsu had joined, he had arrived with a boy that was damaged even more severely than L had been upon first arrival. Hardly any more than a vegetable, apparently the injured boy had been in his care for the past few years before stumbling across their organization-it was an amazement that the schizophrenic hadn't eaten the kid yet. Leader-sama had been more inclined for Zetsu to abandon the useless boy (he was on the brink of death, anyway), but it took a few privately uttered words to quickly change his mind. In fact, along with the decision to allow this boy-Tobi, as he had been dubbed-to stay, an immediate order had been given to Orochimaru and Sasori. And those orders…?

To fix this comatose boy through whatever means or jutsu necessary. To help him regain consciousness and function so that eventually, he could prove be of some use.

So Sasori would spend about an hour or two each day to work on this project, and they were making some great progress on it. In fact, the project seemed to be in the final stages. Orochimaru had used some jutsu or another to release Tobi from his comatose state. Even in the brain, there was a great deal of damage, so the first thing that had been spoken from the newly-awoken lips was something completely nonsensical, lacking in meaning or comprehension. As Sasori finished patching up the left side of the boy, he hoped that such ridiculous nonsense wouldn't become a permanent aspect of Tobi's personality. He wasn't sure if he was patient enough to deal with such.

Of course, this daily hour or two would be spent alone if Orochimaru wasn't working with him. L had been forbidden to come in; worst-case scenario and the curious child could end up 'interfering with business.' But…even then, when he emerged from the room, L would be crouched next to the door in the hallway, silent with his book in hand.

When Project: Tobi (as it had been designated) had reached full completion and the patched young man had been able to walk and leave the room, he had insisted that he would only do so if he could wear the orange mask that had been lying nearby, with only one hole for an eye and swirled with black. His wish had been granted, but…that was pretty much the end of any sensibility or seriousness from him. When he did leave the room, one of the first things that he had noticed was L.

Crouching in front of the bookworm, he asked, "Are you a project, too?"

L looked up at the unfamiliar young man, blinking a couple of times. Tobi was about twice his age, perhaps a little more, but he _was_ closest to his age. Sasori and Orochimaru emerged from the room and to look for the young man-their project had escaped the room quicker than expected.

Orochimaru was the first one to spot him.

"They seem to be getting along…quite well together, don't they?" Orochimaru commented with an amused grin as they stopped behind him. The redhead sighed and reached down to pull the masked young man away.

"Let's not scare the kid, Tobi," he scolded.

"Am I a…project…?" L repeated to no one in particular, pointing to himself in spite of what else had been said. That was the one of the first times he had really seriously considered such a question… What _was_ he, anyway? He certainly wasn't a member…and he definitely wasn't anybody's son, despite how much as he tended to stick to Sasori. Why _was_ he here?

"Oooh, I see! He must be the son of Sasori-sempai!" Tobi exclaimed. He then looked up at Sasori, then back at L. "But why does he have black hair? His hair should be red like his tousan's! Unless…" He suddenly tsk'ed and wagged a finger at the wide-eyed boy. "Rebellion is not always a good thing, you know. Nope, nope."

L snapped from his thoughts and stared. Red like his…his…

…What was this guy _talking_ about? For once in his life, he was beginning to get the feeling that the situation was almost…too stupid for him to really deal with anymore.

Sasori could feel his stinger quiver. Patience…patience… Though all the while, he just _knew_ that Orochimaru must've been taking some sort of enjoyment out of all this.

"Tobi, if you can't behave then we're taking you back to your room," the scorpion stated firmly.

"Aw…" Tobi said as he settled down a little, not squirming nearly as much anymore. "Alright. Tobi will stop." L could almost swear that this…_Tobi_ person…was smiling underneath the mask now. "Because Tobi is a good boy!"

* * *

_Author's Note-Yes, yes, I know about Tobi. I already have plans on how to make the Madara thing fit, so no worries on that. Um...so I'm gonna get to work on the next chapter. Please review and flames that aren't constructive...will be thrown to pro-kira supporters with the words 'death to Kira' on them._


	4. Birthday

_Well, I seem to be getting better. So...here's the next chapter. But ugh...so much math with the ages. I practically spent an hour on it last night just trying to sort all of it out. But yay! Enter A and B.  
_

_Jadedone-Heh, yep. According to the thirteenth manga, L is supposedly part Japanese, part English, part Russian, and part Italian or French. Yeah, I don't think Sasori trusts Orochimaru enough to let him babysit. Now Tobi...that could have quite an amusing turnout. About the candy thing...yeah, I just couldn't resist. And I find the image of Orochi with sugar and a crouch practically fanart-worthy. Heh. About Tobi, I'll never tell. At least not yet. But yes, Kabuto and Itachi shall be making an entrance quite soon. And...I'm not entirely sure I can imagine L with red hair, but I'm certainly trying now. Orochi and Kira meeting...gah...I don't think the world is ready for that. XD_

_Kikino-Aw, thank you! I'm starting to feel better...still a bit sore, but an adjustment from my chiropractor helped quite a bit. And yep, L is talking now! Now L can begin rivaling Kidomaru in conversing about percetages. As for the candy...heh, I'll never tell. Not yet, anyway._

_thexamimi-Really? I'm glad you like the fic. I agree, Chibi L and Sasori are quite kawaii. No worries, Deidei shall be in this fanficceh. As for the grammar...heh, yeah, it's kinda something I'm used to. Mello's gonna be making his appearance...actually pretty soon, if all goes well. And as usual, Matt won't be far behind._

_Disclaimer...I do not own Naruto! Nor Death Note, nor Another Note. So do not sic lawyers on me! All they could possibly get is ramen and maybe a little change._

* * *

Time passed quickly.

Perhaps it only seemed like that, since he could really no longer age…since he could no longer feel the passage of time wearing and tearing at his body. But a few weeks had quickly become a year, and an official caretaker-a godparent or something of the sort-had yet to be found for L.

But then, considering the state he had found the boy in…would he just end up undoing everything he had done if he gave him away at this point?

Whatever the case, the passage of time had brought them into the month of October. Halloween had been the first thing that would naturally come to mind, but he had come to learn at some point that it was also L's birthday. His seventh one, to be precise.

However, that day…rather than L receiving a surprise, it was the other way around.

The day was going by just like any other day. Working, reading, mostly silence… Surprisingly, L hadn't complained about the lack of caring for his special day, but then again…it was actually rare for him to ever complain, really. L did seem a bit more distracted than usual, thinking more than reading, possibly even debating on something inwardly. But it wasn't until around noon that that Sasori had received his surprise.

"Sasori-san..?" L spoke up from the back of the room, nibbling on his thumbnail.

Sasori didn't look back at him, but acknowledged the imploration. "Hm?"

"I…" There was the sound of L climbing to his feet and closing a book, crossing to room to stand beside him. Briefly, Sasori inwardly noted that L still wasn't that much taller than the day he had first spoken, and wondered if it was the damage done to his spine had stunted his growth. "I learned something new… Would you like to see?"

The redhead was tempted to reply that no, he was too busy for such petty matters. But after a few moments of consideration, he figured that he could spare a couple minutes to humor the child. "Sure," he replied, setting down his tools to turn to L and look down at him.

L smiled a little at this response. Had he already anticipated that Sasori would say yes, or was he just happy that his caretaker had decided to comply? In any case, he held out the book he had been reading and placed a hand on the middle of the cover, concentrating for a moment.

What was this? All he was doing was holding a boo-

…No… It couldn't possibly…

But as the hand underneath the book slowly began to draw away, it became clear that…L _was_. The book didn't fall away, even though it had no support underneath. There was nothing holding onto the book…so all that could possibly be was…

…Chakra…

For a moment, L didn't seem to notice Sasori's shock. Instead, he proudly explained that he had heard of chakra and jutsu from the others around here. While nobody really seemed too willing to teach him, he instead learned how to do this trick in one of the books he had read, and had been practicing how to do it all by himself for a while.

It was at that moment that Sasori truly realized: this was no ordinary child. This boy was…special.

Noticing the redhead's reaction, L looked up at him and stared, unblinking eyes innocent and…a little worried. Did he do something wrong? Did he do something to make Sasori-san angry at him? Perhaps there was a reason that Sasori-san hadn't taught him how to use chakra...

This break in his concentration was worsened by the sudden jolt of unequally distributed weight, causing his hand to dip a little. There was the sound of pages rustling, the book falling open but the cover still being held to L's hand. But that little interruption, that break in concentration had only served to make the surprise even more of a shock: not only had L been holding onto the book with chakra concentrated into his palm, but…he had been using his chakra to hold the book _shut_, as well.

For the second time of keeping L in his care, Sasori wondered if he should consider providing the child with some instruction. This time, he didn't oppose the idea so immediately. Granted, the book wasn't nearly as thick as many of the other books that L tended to read, so it wouldn't be too heavy. Even so...it was clear that this boy had _talent_. It would be a shame, no, a _crime_ to let that talent take on no direction and languish… If nothing else, it wouldn't do too much harm to at least instruct him in the basics.

Without a word, he reached down to take the book from L's hand. It came away easily enough, and he straightened to open it and flip through the pages. _The Shinobi's Path, Volume One: The Beginning_. Of course…

"Sa…sori-san?" L spoke up, a worried frown on his face. His caretaker's silence was unnerving… He did do something wrong, didn't he?

But instead, Sasori shut the book and set it down on the table. "It's your birthday today, isn't it?" he asked, putting some of his tools away. It was around L's lunchtime, anyway. He made his way to the door. "Let's get you something at the market…"

The worried frown first went from a look of surprise, but then to a smile as L nodded, quickly following after the scorpion.

...

Lovatt would be seven today.

Seven years old, if he were still alive.

Quillish Whammy let out a sigh, looking at the photo that sat at the corner of his desk. It had been taken three years prior, showing himself, one of his college students-a young woman with long black hair named Emiko, and Emiko's son Lovatt-a small, thin, cheerful little boy with wild black hair and wide eyes.

But that had all changed after the accident.

It had happened one day when Emiko was picking up Lovatt from painting lessons. It had been particularly rainy that day…storming, really. The rain had been pounding down, much thicker than just a sheet. The car had spun out of control…

Emiko had been killed instantly. Her son survived.

Mr. Whammy had been the godfather of Lovatt, but he had been unable to gain custody. Rather, Lovatt had been sent to live with his father…and in turn, ended up enduring so much abuse from the drunkard. Even so, he would come visit the boy every October 31st. He would give Lovatt a birthday gift and large slice of cake, and Lovatt would tell him about all of the many things he had learned since he had last seen the inventor. But…the child never did paint again.

All the same, Lovatt had clearly proven himself to be a genius.

But things had been getting worse. When Lovatt was in the hospital for a great deal of time due to spinal damage (which, his spine was already in poor shape due to the accident; a shove down a flight of stairs only made it worse), Mr. Whammy had filed for legal custody a second time, right then and there, but to no avail.

Even after that little incident, as soon as Lovatt was out of the hospital and returned home, the abuse had begun to escalate further. Finally he received a call from Lovatt. The child sounded quite frightened.

_"Mr.…Mr. Whammy? This is Lovatt… Please come here, right away. He seems serious this time. I'm afraid he might-"_

The phone had gone dead.

Mr. Whammy had rushed to the scene as fast as he could, but all he was greeted by was an empty doorway that was wet with more than just rainwater, the absence of a child, and an enraged drunken parent.

Forensics scoured the scene and found bloodstains in the doorway.

John Lawliet swore up and down that he didn't know where the boy had gone, and that he certainly hadn't killed him. But he was arrested all the same. This was the same man that dubbed the abuse he'd inflicted upon Lovatt as 'light disciplining,' after all. The case was difficult to win without a body, but Mr. Whammy had hired some of the best lawyers in the Great Britain, and there had been a great deal of circumstantial forensic evidence.

The jury deliberated…

John Lawliet received twenty years in prison.

But he continued to swear that he hadn't done anything to Lovatt, and he wouldn't reveal where the body had been hidden.

Mr. Whammy hoped to find poor Lovatt's remains someday, and bury the boy next to Emiko so he could actually rest in peace…it would be the least he could do.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of his office door creaking open. A pale, thin boy with messy chestnut hair and blue eyes quickly crossed the room, a frown on his face. "Mr. Whammy," he said. For a seven year-old, he certainly tried to conduct himself like an adult. But his tone was frustrated, agitated. "You have _got_ to do something about B! He won't stop following me around and telling me that I have only five more years to live."

"I'm is only saying what's true…" a quiet monotone said from the doorway. The first boy-A-whirled around to look at the six year-old that stood in the doorway.

B-a boy that looked and acted eerily similar to Lovatt with his messy black hair and bent back and wide eyes…though red, not black-calmly sucked on his thumb as he pleaded his case to the orphanage owner. "Apple Azure will die at the age of twelve years. That's when his lifespan will run out; I've seen it happen before."

A turned back to Mr. Whammy with a look of exasperation. "You see?" he demanded. "He won't stop! And he must've been going through the files or something, because as you instructed, I haven't told anybody my name, not even to the other kids here!"

"You're just angry because of your disadvantage…" B replied calmly. "That I can see your name and lifespan but you can't see mine."

Mr. Whammy sighed. B was brilliant, practically equal to Lovatt himself. But there were times when he was left wondering about B's sanity…like now, for instance. He was used to strange behavior, really. He even encouraged it in the other children, but when it began to scare the other orphans, that's where problems began to develop. So hence, B had managed to grab the title of successor, but it was A that Mr. Whammy had officially taken under his wing.

"B…" he began. "This is a very serious matter. You can't be sneaking into my office and looking at personal records and documents, even if you _are_ A's successor-"

"But Mr. Whammy, I didn't. You can check for fingerprints if you don't believe me."

Of all the days…

"B," Mr. Whammy said firmly. "A's role is a very important one, but it is also very dangerous. He can't afford to have his name given away freely. I realize that you are A's successor, but this is the _fifth time_ you've broken into the records and scared the other children. If you can't behave then you will be punished for your misdeeds."

Wide red eyes were focusing on something above Mr. Whammy's head, like they often tended to do, but then looked away. "…I understand," B replied quietly. He looked over at A, tilting his head to the point where it appeared that he lacked bones in his neck. "I apologize, Azure." He turned to go, but then as an afterthought he added, "…I'll let you find out for yourself, come five years' time. And then _I_ will truly surpass you and take your place…"

And with that, he was gone.

A stared at the open doorway for a moment, mouth hanging open from shock and outrage. Mr. Whammy sighed.

…He really needed to hire his friend Roger for these things.

* * *

_Author's Note-Gah...short. But I _have_ at least brought in B and explained a few things about L's past. Um...for anyone that doesn't know who B/BB/Beyond Birthday is, he's a character in Another Note: LA BB Murder Cases, and he was born with Shinigami eyes. Anyways, please review! Evil flames will be set on fire by B (did that even make sense?)_


	5. Stalker

_Gah, sorry that this chapter has taken so long to get out. And it's so short...but I'll try and make the next chapter longer and get it out sooner, and you get a piece of cake since I turned twenty recently.  
_

_thexamimi-Ah, yes. B is awesome. That's entirely the reason I put him in there. XD Okay, seriously though, I have been promising that I'd start shedding some light on the changes going on in England and Whammy's House now that L isn't there to be a role model. Also, the Whammy kids are going to start having bigger roles in the near-future, so it's helping to set the stage for that._

_Kikino-Heh, well...it was probably a big slice of birthday cake L got at the market...and some sort of small gift or another. As for the chakra bit, I shall try my best. As for my condition (which turned out to be mostly a pinched nerve in the upper leg), worry no more. It's all better now that I've gotten several adjustments and walked all around the Renaissance Festival after the first one (I've found that exercise always helps with those sorts of things.) LA BB Murder Cases...as a fellow L fanatic, I'd definitely recommend reading it. Narrated by Mello with more characterization of Naomi Misora and the rivalry of L and B, as well as plenty of twists. I read it all in Barnes and Noble within a couple days, but also got it for my b-day. XD I'm planning to read it again quite soon.  
_

_I Have No Account-To be honest, L's real name isn't Lovatt. You're right, it's L Lawliet. But it bugged me that L's first name only seemed to be an initial, so I gave him a full one. XD Heh...ironic that the idea actually spun off of a crack roleplay, ne? I shall do my best to continue._

_BeyondXBirthday-Le gasp, I have received a comment from Beyond himself! XD Thanks! I have my doubts that B would scare everyone, considering everyone else, but it would be an interesting confrontation. There's a good chance that at some point or another, he'll actually have an encounter... Sasori is one of my favorites in the Akatsuki, but so is Deidara. I love it how they can make artists look cool._

_Ivanika-I like a lot of the Konoha shinobi (particularly Shikamaru...I often wonder who would win a game of Go if it was between him and L), but I like the Akatsuki, too. XD Thanks! Here is the update, and I shall try to update soon for the next one._

_Disclaimer-I own nothing except my own twisted ideas. Trust me, they're not worth the price of a lawyer._

* * *

Golden eyes watched a particular puppet master and child from a window in the nearby building. They were ever-watching, whether either of the watched knew or not, and a few things had come to be noticed.

Orochimaru had foreseen this coming.

From almost the moment he met his partner, learned of his background, hobbies and abilities there was a little psychological aspect he had noticed: Sasori had attachment issues. For what other reason could there be for one to make hundreds of puppets, if the primary concern was not to learn more and invent new and better jutsu? Why would one be so obsessed about making things last forever, even making _people_-even if that person had already long-since passed on-eternal? Orochimaru himself strived for immortality, his ultimate goal, but that was because there was so much to learn, so much to achieve…and so very time. That logic did not seem to work for his companion, nor did it really seem to fit.

And now his theory was becoming a reality before his eyes.

As much as Sasori attempted to deny any sort of paternal affection towards the boy, as much as he tried to appear to care so very little, that only helped to make the opaque façade as clear as glass.

Sasori had never seemed to allow himself to be close to anyone. It was unusual for him to bring the child back to begin with. It became even more so when he bandaged the boy up with his own bloodstained hands, asked their leader for permission, and then allowed to let him _stay_. But that was merely the beginning of things.

The snake had noticed the scorpion tense ever so slightly whenever a possible threat approached the child. The metabolism advice and candy presented a year earlier was, in fact, a little test, an experiment he had set up for both the child and the surrogate parent. He had been honest-the candy had not been tampered with. There was no need. The results of poisoned sweets were not what he had been looking for, at that point in time, at least.

For the child, he had been curious. How trusting was the boy, really? How intelligent and guarded was he, even at an age so young and not even of shinobi descent? Even though the gift had been candy, he had the foresight to hesitate and observe. To question and wonder, even though the gift-giver had been the partner of the man that cared for him.

And for Sasori…

Quite fascinating, really. He knew that the man had a short temper, but the tension was almost tangible when he had approached the child. Sasori had tried to hide it, but there was the silent, unspoken warning that he would undoubtedly lash out if anything were to actually happen to his poor young boy-they both knew it. What was more, rather than hold a grudge and ignore him, Sasori had actually taken his advice and changed the boy's diet. He had pushed his own pride aside to properly care for his pet…

Interesting indeed.

And Orochimaru had noticed other moments where Sasori had seemed almost protective over L. He had witnessed the moments of understanding that only the two of them shared. And now…

Now he was _training_ L in shinobi ways. He was taking time from his own day, from his own work, only to teach the child and run the risk of being betrayed. Then again, perhaps he was beginning to realize that in a world like this, the defenseless could not live very long lives.

The Sannin chuckled. Poor Sasori… His little psychological issue of attachment had once brought him strength in the form of obsession, in the form of his skill in the art of puppetry. But the same little issue that had once brought him strength had suddenly become a weak point, a vulnerability. The vulnerability had come in the form of L.

Of course, the very fact that Sasori was now training L brought up another thing he had come to notice. Even if Sasori did care for L, he would not go so far as to waste his time with a hopeless case. L must have proven himself to be quite talented to earn the respect he was now receiving, and Orochimaru was beginning to see that talent for himself as he watched the boy train.

How interesting it would be to have a boy like that for his research…

His eyes flickered down to the gleaming red pinwheel in the window. An orphan, a little girl named Kin, had been carrying it along with her when he lured her into his lab. The blades spun quickly as the breeze blew, but then slowed to a stop when the air became still. Beautiful to watch, but in the Sannin's opinion, quite boring really.

Perhaps it was time to stir things up a bit…

* * *

"Kaa-san! Could we get some green tea candies, too?"

"Of course, dear…"

Dark eyes watched the pair in front of him pay for their purchases at the register. A mother and son… He chewed on his thumbnail in thought, his other hand holding a basket full of sweets. A touching scene, really, but it brought back too many memories for his taste. He shoved away the recollections of his old life and did his best to ignore them. All of that was in the past; it would be wise not to dwell on it.

Even so, as he moved forward in line and let the cashier ring up his total, he couldn't keep himself from watching the mother and son leave. If he pushed his own memories from his mind, their interactions were observed practically with the fascination and curiosity of a young detective. Looking back at the cashier and paying when the total was announced, he then took the bag full of sweets and headed out of the candy shop. Time to return to headquarters. Or now…home…

As L began to make his trek down the dirt road, he couldn't help but shake the feeling of eyes watching him. He was used to stares due to his somewhat odd appearance, but those were often passing. This was not the same thing. And for once, it wasn't the eyes of the serpent that he had noticed watching him quite frequently these days, but that still gave no real reason to relax. So the boy of seven and a half years narrowed his wide eyes a little, but that was the only visible sign of attention he had given to his stalker.

He continued on his way out of the town-maybe the person watching him would only go so far. But it was not to be. Instead, several minutes after he had left the village edge, he still felt watched, and being sure to open all of his senses completely, he detected the light sound of footsteps, too. Finally he stopped and turned to look around. "Why don't you come out?" he asked loudly.

Being constantly stalked like this gave him a feeling he did _not_ like. It was the feeling of being a possible victim…and since he had left his first home, he didn't want to feel that way ever again. Seven percent said that he would figure out who his stalker was by the time he reached home anyway-and his percentages were always ninety percent higher than he admitted them to be when he actually gave one. What room was left in that assumption was the possibility that the stalker might actually be unnerved and turn away. It was unlikely.

And perhaps it wasn't the best of ideas to challenge his stalker, but he was a very competitive boy. And with the knowledge above realized, he figured that he may as well make the first move.

There was the sound of a fallen twig snapping, then a figure appearing around the bend of the road, stepping out into view and looking a bit sheepish. It was a boy…probably of around fourteen years of age or so. His hair was white and pulled back into a ponytail, round glasses over his dark eyes. He was dressed in mostly purple and wore what had been learned was a _hitai-ate_ with a leaf decorating its metal plate, announcing that this was a shinobi of Konohagakure. He smiled amiably, rubbing the back of his head.

"Oh…sorry," the boy said. "I didn't mean to seem like I was stalking you. We just happened to be heading in the same direction."

The seven year-old stared at him for a moment, nibbling on his thumbnail, then muttered, "…Mm hm…" before turning on his heel and turning off the path.

The boy blinked, having not expected such a response before he followed. "So…I'm Yakushi Kabuto. What about you?"

"Matsumoto Tatsumi," L lied without missing a beat. Interestingly enough, he was a very easy liar. He wouldn't lie to Sasori, or at least, he hadn't yet, but…

"Oh? Well it's nice to meet you, Tatsumi-kun," Kabuto replied. The following moments between the two were easily uneasy. Neither of them trusted the other, Kabuto certainly didn't believe L, and they both knew it. "Anyway, what brings you off the road like this?"

"That is for my own knowledge," L replied guardedly. "Why are you following me?"

"I already said that I wasn't following," Kabuto replied, both hands up in the air in a universal sign of peace. "This really is where I'm supposed to be headed."

"Hm…" L didn't turn to look at him, but then spoke up, "…Eight percent."

"Huh?" Kabuto looked up at him and blinked.

"Eight percent certain that I don't trust you."

"Er…" Kabuto sweatdropped, then smiled as he tried to make the best of a bad situation. "Well at least it's at a low percent." His smile grew more charming, more friendly. "Hey, maybe we can be frien-"

"Don't count on it."

Kabuto's face fell a little, wondering who this little punk really was. But before he could wonder too much, he noticed that the hunched-over form of the little boy had suddenly taken off through the trees. He frowned a little, thinking how much trouble there could be if a civilian happened to stumble across HQ. "H-hey! Wait up!" he called as he dashed after the young boy.

The strange child was not very fast, or at least, not nearly as fast as he was. Kabuto kept up easily, only several paces behind him. Catching a glint of steel as he ran, he glimpsed down just in time to avoid a trip wire and notice a few kunai around him. A primitive shinobi trap… Who was this kid, really?

Too close to really ask questions…it would be bad for this boy to die or be injured, but worse if he were to discover the hideout and get away. Kabuto quickened his pace to catch up to the kid and focused his chakra into his palm, into a technique that he was still practicing. But he would have to use it now…he'd target the boy's leg and tear a few tendons in the thigh. That should stop him…

The boy looked back at him with his huge eyes, almost a deer-in-the-headlights look.

Kabuto's hand moved forward to strike…

His hand did not make contact with the boy.

Rather, he had struck an arm, but unfortunately…it was the arm of his current 'master.'

Sasori, in Haruko form, glared at both children-particularly Kabuto for being the one caught attacking. "What is going on here?" he demanded.

L looked over at Sasori with slight surprise, then back at Kabuto, then down at his basket of sweets and inwardly lamented the loss of a couple of purchases as he nibbled on his thumbnail. "I was heading home from market and was followed by him," he replied. "I'm about seven percent certain that he is probably a spy."

"You're not supposed to be hanging around here," Kabuto tried to argue, but he was already getting the sinking feeling that this boy had a rather close relation to Sasori-sama.

In confirmation of his beliefs, Sasori looked over at him. "He's my student," he replied. "And my subordinate."

L looked up with mild surprise. Sasori then turned his eyes to him.

"And you are correct to believe that he is a spy," the puppet master explained. "However, he's _my_ spy."

L tilted his head, then aimed his sideways glance towards Kabuto to study him. "…I see. Then I apologize, Kabuto-kun," he said calmly, almost sincerely. Almost. "If I had known that you were working for sensei, I would've been far more understanding and cooperative."

Kabuto remained skeptical but smiled. "Hey, it's alright. You can never be too careful around here…" He stuck his hand out in a sign of truce…for now, if nothing else. "Truce?"

L stared at his hand for a moment and didn't shake it, but rather turned around and headed towards HQ. "…I suppose."

* * *

_Author's Note-Kabuto has entered! Heh, and it would seem that he doesn't like L at all. Anyway, I shall have the next chapter up...hopefully soon. Flames shall be shot by Matsuda._


	6. Reality

Author's Note-Alright. Holy crap guys, it's been a long, long while-a whole eight months, I believe-and I really must apologize. I had been suffering from a lack of writing inspiration as well as some major writer's block for a while, but thanks to encouragement from my friend, beta reader, and resident Sasori expert-Puppet-chan-and my new English class, I've started to get back to practicing my writing a lot more often these days. Particular videos such as Memories: L Tribute with the song 'Angels Fall First' (watch it!) and 'Snow White Queen' especially helped, too, like with the dream and Orochimaru parts. I will say that I'm surprised at all the changes the site has gone through since I posted the last chapter. With one of these changes being the ability to reply to reviews, I shall probably take my responses to your comments on there, so don't think I've shut off communication with you guys. XD So anyway, I'm sorry that this chapter is a bit short but I'll hopefully have more in the upcoming chapters. Just think of this as a bit of a warm-up. And finally, as always, I don't own Death Note nor do I own Naruto. So...please don't sic your lawyers on me. It's really not worth it.

* * *

_"You think you're going to manage to be _that_ someday?"_

_Silence met the answer to that question._

_"Look at yourself, kid. You're a hunchback freak. Who's gonna support a freakish-looking hunchbacked athlete? Can hunchbacks even _play_ tennis?"_

_"I wasn't aiming to do it for a profession…"_

_"Then what's the point of doing it at all? I'm not gonna waste money on something you're not gonna pay me back in later."_

_Wide dark eyes frowned as this statement was followed by the sound of another beer bottle opening. This was the man's fifth one…he shouldn't have come in during the middle of this. This was a mistake. He looked around the small room, dim with only overcast light pouring in through the window and coming from the glow of the BBC, which was currently covering a case of several men being arrested for planting a car bomb that had killed six and injured thirty. Empty bottles of London Pride sat on the coffee table as well as being strewn across the wooden floor of the room-and not just from this drinking marathon. An almost-finished six-pack sat next to the man on the striped retro sofa, varying-sized vertical stripes of rust red, forest green, navy blue, white, tan, and gray decorating the rough fabric._

_He could smell the cigarette smoke hanging in the room, overpowering just about any other odor. The ashtray that was on the coffee table would need emptying soon to keep from overflowing, and an unfinished smoke dangled in between the man's fingers. He resisted wrinkling his nose and opening a window-he hated the smell. Aside from the conversation he was having with the man, it was mostly quiet in the house. The television was muted; the only other source of noise aside from the bottles and themselves was the clock up on the wall, the hands passing mercilessly over the painted red numbers._

_"Actually," L finally confessed. "What I want to be is…that…" He pointed to the television screen where it showed the police escorting the suspects to a couple cars._

_The man barked out a laugh. "You want to be a criminal? I guess it makes sense, seeing as how you're never going to amount to anything at this rate. You can't even tie your shoes, can you?"_

_The boy narrowed his eyes a little. This man was exaggerating, and he knew it. L could tie his shoes-he just didn't like _wearing_ them. "What I want to become is a policeman," he countered, giving the drunkard a small glare._

_Matching dark eyes matched his gaze, suddenly more serious. For a moment, the tension was almost tangible before it was suddenly broken by the man slamming his finished bottle into the wall behind L, just missing the boy-intentionally or not, it one couldn't quite tell-as it loudly shattered into a hundred glittering pieces. A small, involuntary cringe crossed L's face as the man stood up after tossing the bottle in one surprisingly fluid movement._

_"Hell no!" he stated fiercely, clenching his fists. "No son of mine is going to become some nosey-assed copper."_

_"They bring justice into the world-" L began, but he had the sinking feeling that he already knew how this would end._

_"Justice? There's no such thing as justice!" the man countered, reaching out and grabbing the boy by the coller, raising him to the point where he was standing awkwardly on his tiptoes. This time L's nose did wrinkle-now the disgusting smell of alcohol on breath was mixing strongly with the already-sickening cigarette scent. "Justice is just a pretty word that's used to make others feel better when they're paid back after their lives have been fucked with. And it's really only brought to one side of a case, isn't it? The other guy ends up being screwed over." He released L's collar and moved to grab his shoulder next, to turn him to face the TV to provide an example, but L had managed to take such a chance to take a few steps back and disappear into his room before he could manage._

_L leaned against the door, eyes closed for a moment as he let out a breath before opening them. When he did…they widened upon realizing that he definitely wasn't in his room._

_In fact, he didn't recognize this place at all. He was suddenly standing outside, under the pale blue sky of the crisp autumn afternoon. The sun shone blindingly in comparison through the branches of the bare trees when he looked up, so it obviously wasn't that late here. Behind him were suddenly tall steel gates, and beyond that was a dirt road winding through a forest and down a hill. Taking a few paces across what appeared to be a dirt schoolyard in front of him, he took in the grassy land surrounding it and up ahead, off to his left…a mansion. A tall dark clock tower loomed from it, extending upwards as if trying to puncture heaven itself. Curiously approaching the mansion, his footsteps in the soft dust were about all that could be heard at the moment. Not even a bird…_

_He took in the large round window of stained glass above the front doors- a rose window-and briefly recalled hearing from his mother that they often symbolized the key to one's soul. He couldn't get nearly as good a look at it as he hoped from being so close, though he supposed that it made sense. Rose windows were placed high so they'd be more for the enjoyment of the eyes of God rather than the eyes of mortals-at least, that's what he had read once._

_He was about to start up the steps that led up to the front door when he was startled by a loud bell ringing. He looked up at the clock tower and stared for a moment when his attention was drawn back down to the doors opening. Anxious children poured out of the mansion, talking, laughing, studying, none of them noticing him as they ran past. It was as if he was a lucent ghost, a being that had fallen into the wrong plane of reality._

_It almost seemed like slow motion, so he was able to get a good view…but of what? Most of the other children seemed featureless, unimportant, and in muted colors as if they didn't even matter. But then he noticed that there were a few that seemed to stand out…_

_One of them was a small albino child with short curly hair and a teddy bear clutched in one hand, dressed in all white-a ghost in a crowd of shadow. He glanced over at L, almost questioningly, curious, but the expression soon faded to a lack of any emotion in general._

_A girl could be seen following him, even smaller, with long, dual-brunette braids and an art book clutched in her arms. She seemed to pay him no mind as she trailed after the ghostly boy, calling for the albino to play with her._

_Two others passed his other side, one being a redhead dressed in a striped red and black shirt with jean shorts, goggled eyes staring at a game screen, a peppermint stick sticking out of his mouth. The other was talking animatedly with him, a blond with a bob cut and blue eyes, garbed in an oversized black sweater and black pants, munching on a bar of chocolate. Like the ghostly boy, he seemed to notice L as well, but rather than just a passing glance, he suddenly stopped and stared. His lips seemed to form a few muted words-"Isn't…this…"_

_The blonde's words were stopped by the redhead, who didn't even seem to notice L as his back was turned. "Isn't this what?" the redhead asked. He then shook his head and began to walk off with the blond as he patted his shoulder with one free hand, the other keeping a grip on the teal Game and Watch system. Despite that he was talking to the boy, his eyes still seemed to be fixed on the screen instead. "You know, you're really starting to stress too much…"_

_When the entrance hall had finally cleared, the kids off playing and shouting behind him, L didn't even turn around to look back. Rather, he peered straight ahead and headed curiously inside, down the marble tile hall, looking around at the expansive room of oak panel walls and portraits, a pair of curled staircases up ahead. And as well as a staircase…_

_A figure stood before him, and for a moment he almost believed it to be his reflection. The doppelganger's head was bowed, staring down at the floor, so L couldn't see his eyes. He was dressed in jeans and a baggy black sweatshirt, his hands inside his pockets._

_"So…" the other boy finally spoke up, practically as casual as one commenting that it was about to rain. "You finally came."_

_The head lifted…_

_The doppelganger…had _red_ eyes…_

* * *

L bolted up, wide eyes even wider as his hands gripped the sheets. He could still hear the sound of bells ringing loud in his ears, and for a moment he believed he was still somewhere back in England. But…no, it seemed not.

He was back now.

He was home.

"I'm…home…" he murmured to himself in firm reassurance.

He drew a few breaths in and out, closing his eyes for a moment before opening them again, his clenched hands loosening on the cotton cover. This was one of the reasons he didn't sleep much. He looked around the silent room for a moment, taking in the familiar sight of puppets hung up on the walls around him-some half-finished, some finished completely. His sensei was nowhere to be found…he must've been in his workshop down the hall.

That was fine. He preferred to keep his rather violent awakening a secret, even from Sasori. It seemed he had been keeping a several secrets these days though, surprisingly enough, so at least he seemed to have some practice at it.

He didn't really want to think about the dream. It gave him a sense of uneasiness, like there was somewhere else he was supposed to be. But…this was his home. This was where he belonged.

…Right?

He rolled out of the futon and sat up, crawling over to the end of the bed and reaching into a small, scarcely-noticeable slit he had made in the side. Reaching inside carefully, as if performing a surgical procedure on the mattress, he pulled a small wooden puppet from the fluff, no bigger than about six inches high without really any special detail or feature. He had decided to borrow this from his sensei-without asking, of course. It was one of the smallest puppets he could find; he doubted Sasori-sensei would really notice much less miss it.

Climbing to his feet again after making sure the slit was covered and decently-hidden, the eight year-old slipped grabbed some candy that he had stored in a bottom drawer of Sasori's bedside table and headed out of the room, then quietly down the hall to go outside to a particular clearing.

…After all, he did he keep _several_ secrets…

When he reached the clearing a safe distance from the base, he stopped with a slight frown, remembering how Sasori wouldn't teach him in shinobi puppetry. He only stuck to the basics with him, even though they both knew L had the capacity to excel at more complex jutsu. For a brief moment, L wondered if it was because of a matter of trust…but then he shook his head slightly and pushed those thoughts away. He needed to focus on training.

Setting the puppet on the ground, he focused his chakra into his fingertips, concentrating. The chakra began to flow from his fingers like small waterfalls of energy, and with further concentration he was able to narrow them out to become thinner like strings. He was coming along…fairly well, he believed. All things considered, at least.

…All things considered.

But this would be much easier and go far more smoothly if he had some professional training rather than just what he had seen and read in books. It was almost frustrating, but now was not the time to think about what he could not control.

The strings attached one by one to the puppet's limbs, and slowly he began to lift it up. This puppet was light, at least. It was fine for a beginner like him to use. He'd have to make a bigger one for him to practice with later, to use once he had mastered this simple figure.

The puppet stood, and though it had no eyes or facial features added on, its head turned from side to side as if in an attempt to look around. A few twitches of the puppet master's fingers and it began to walk towards the edge of the clearing, towards the shade of the trees and though a little shaky, decently stable enough. As a light breeze rustled through the trees, L vaguely noticed that it was drawing close to the beginning of autumn. However, it wasn't too far into the season-the leaves were only just beginning to turn and while the warm temperature had dropped slightly, it was still quite a far cry from chilly. The crisp, pale blue skies from his dream were still a ways off. But similar to his dream, the noon sun was high in the sky, casting shadows around the clearing, though he stood more so in the sunlight where darkness had not yet touched. All was silent, save some of the chirping of surrounding birds and the twitching of twigs from squirrels.

But suddenly…that silence was broken.

"Eight years old and already practicing shinobi puppetry…" a familiar serpentine voice spoke up. "You really are Sasori's subordinate."

Concentration broken, L's head shot up, wide eyes wider. He hadn't intended for anyone to learn of his secret anytime soon-_especially_ not his sensei's partner. His dark eyes then narrowed a bit when the paste-white Sannin stepped out from behind a tree next to the now-limp puppet.

Amber eyes flickered downwards as their owner reached down and calmly, casually picked up the puppet. "And yet you're not receiving any lessons on this from Sasori? Such a shame…he really is letting talent go to waste."

"My training is none of your business," L countered simply, his voice going to monotone.

"I suppose that is true," Orochimaru replied. "It is yours and Sasori's business. But only one of you seems to be taking it very seriously, am I right?"

"Why are you here?"

Orochimaru's eyebrows raised slightly as a slight grin crept across his face. "I was merely going on a walk to town," he replied.

"You were following me," L corrected, narrowed eyes studying him. Even though his tone was monotone, his expression showed a bit more than that-annoyance, caution.

"Following you?" the snake-like man repeated, now with an air of mild amusement. His lips twisted into a smirk. "You shouldn't be so arrogant," he responded without missing a beat. "I have better things to do than to stalk my partner's young student." He took several steps forward, past L before stopping just beyond the borderline between light and shadow, his pale form now illuminating the shade as if it gave off its own personal glow. The two were back to back, and now even the birds didn't seem to be chirping. "But tell me, now that I _have_ seen what I have seen… Does Sasori even know?"

That was followed by a long silence as well. No vocal words exchanged, but the silent words rang as loud as cathedral bells. Finally Orochimaru glanced over his shoulder at L, his golden eyes confident with practiced persuasion. "It is indeed a shame. I can't possibly imagine why not… He does _trust _you enough to learn complex jutsu such as shinobi puppetry, doesn't he?" he finally questioned, breaking the silence.

The boy frowned, his head lowering a bit as his eyes stared down at the ground. But other than that, he was still trying not to give anything away. He wasn't entirely sure just how much Orochimaru knew he was right, that he had struck a slight nerve… After wondering about that question himself…and the Sannin _was _his sensei's partner; well, as much as he hated to admit it, Orochimaru probably knew him better. Didn't he? It would be no wonder if he could draw such a similar conclusion so accurately so quickly…

But then a brief surprise came when Orochimaru spoke up again. His voice held no real malice, but…more like gentle inveiglement with almost a few unexpected light tones of concern sprinkled in. "I'll let you in on a little secret, L-kun," he finally said, breaking the silence. "A piece of advice since you don't seem to be completely a lost cause and because you _are_ my partner's student and subordinate."

L hesitated before reluctantly turning around fully to look at his sensei's partner. He couldn't help it; his curiosity had been ensnared.

"…Yes?"

"I've seen many things in my time," the Sannin began. "Including the rare occurrence of when a foreigner comes into our lands and attempts to learn our jutsu. Even the rarest of those rare people, the ones with _talent_, seem to take at least _twice_ as long as the average student to learn. Even longer when they are without a sensei and they attempt to stray into the territory of the more complex jutsu. The fact that you have mastered this much so quickly and at such an early age speaks volumes. You began learning how to control and channel your chakra before even receiving guidance of any sort from Sasori, after all."

He then lifted the limp puppet in his hand, looking down at it and keeping his eyes focused on that. "However…now that you've begun to learn specific jutsu, I'm almost curious as to how far you would be without any sort of direction at all. I wonder if you'd have reached this point without any of Sasori's training."

L frowned. "What are you implying?" he questioned, even though he already had a good idea.

"L-kun," the Sannin reminded. "You _are_ one of these talented foreigners. Even if it feels like you're at home by now, you are far from your native environment and out of your true element here. You can train alone in this clearing all you like, but unless you choose to explain this little secret of yours to Sasori or find another sensei that is actually willing to teach you more serious jutsu, you won't make that much progress as a shinobi. The best you could possibly hope to accomplish at this rate is…" He paused to think for a moment. "Mediocre chunnin level."

He then gave an indifferent shrug, and suddenly any former suggestion of his own opinions on the matter through tone was dropped. "But you are an intelligent young man. Whatever choice you make about your training is yours and yours alone. After all...if you plan to be content with only the basics, it really makes no difference to me."

With that spoken, he had disappeared into the forest, leaving the tiny puppet sitting on a branch of a nearby sapling…as well as his words and subtle suggestion hanging in the suddenly-cooler air of a dying summer.

L watched the Sannin leave with a slight, troubled frown before walking over to the sapling to pick up his puppet and stare at it in thought. Despite the lack of trust he had for Orochimaru, he knew his words were probably true: he was out of place here, and training alone without any guidance aside from books wouldn't get him very far. The fact of the matter was that he _wanted_ to learn more, he really did. But he couldn't seem to convince Sasori-sensei to teach him for…whatever reasons.

"Sasori-sensei…" he whispered. "Do you really not trust me enough to learn your true art?" His dark eyes moved upwards toward the sky, as if its brightness would shed some light on answers to his question. It seemed he had come to the point where he would have to make a choice he really didn't want to. It really should've been a no-brainer, but for the first time in a long time, he felt very unsure…and it wasn't a feeling he particularly liked. Either way it would be a gamble.

Should he seek out the aid of the scorpion…or the snake?

* * *

Author's Note-I hope for a warm-up, this turned out well. Orochimaru had me a little iffy at parts, as well as L's father (the only drunks I am really used to writing as are the clingy, happy drunks (coughcoughMellocoughcough XD); not so much the violent abusive ones.) So please drop by and leave me a review, let me know what you think. Flames will be added to particular death scenes in the original Death Note series.


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